


Match Rules

by viceroyvonmutini



Series: hic ibi dracones [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceroyvonmutini/pseuds/viceroyvonmutini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw was adamant they were not a thing. So was Root. The school had other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This started as 'what if Root narrated their entire sex life through quidditch commentary' on a Skype chat and ended in a four part hogwarts AU that will probably get bigger.
> 
> Can be read as a stand alone but does fit in with the general progression of the series.

Gossip travels fast. Know the right people, know where to look, and you can know every secret, every rumor and every truth.

‘You and Shaw huh?’

Zoe Morgan, fellow Slytherin and one of the few in her house not out to maim, curse or hex her in some way sat opposite Root at her small table in the common room.

Root raised an eyebrow.

‘You and John huh?’

Zoe let her smile widen.

‘Touché.’

‘How are you Zoe?’

‘Keeping myself appraised of events, and yourself?’

‘Likewise.’

The two shared a smile. ‘Friends’ was strong word: ‘mutually agreed truce’ seemed to fit them better. Both had interests and reputations to maintain after all.

‘So. You and Shaw huh?’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘I know some people who know some people,’ trailed off Zoe.

‘Of course.’

‘Seems like you’ve tamed the wildfire.’

Root scoffed.

‘You believe that?’

‘You once told me you always get what you want Root.’

‘I would never be that cliché.’

Zoe laughed lightly.

‘Fine, but I saw you out on the Quidditch pitch: something must be drawing you there.’

‘Have you been stalking me?’

‘Following rumors.’

‘Already?’

Zoe raised an eyebrow.

‘This is Hogwarts.’

‘Never said I was shocked just…surprised.’

‘So it’s true?’

‘Is what true?’ replied Root all sickly sweet, and Zoe shook her head.

‘You’re impossible.’

Root grinned and the two lapsed into amicable silence. Zoe made it her business to know people’s business; Root knew the rumors had been flying but if Zoe had come to her it must be bad.

‘So are you going to tell me?’

‘As a friend or as a business partner?’

‘Friend. Obviously. I want to know.’

Root closed the books she was meant to be studying, giving Zoe her full attention.

‘We’re…fucking.’

‘Knew it.’

‘ _Not_ dating.’

‘That suits?’

‘Of course,’ grinned Root, ‘I have Sameen Shaw in my bed: what more could I want? What do the rumors say?’

‘You don’t know?’

‘I know, I just want to hear your assessment.’

‘They vary. Mostly people see her coming and going a lot. With you. Looking…sexed.’

Root laughed.

‘Good.’

‘The word ‘relationship’ has been tossed around.’

Root paused.

‘Are you sure?’

Zoe nodded.

‘Sameen won’t like that,’ mumbled Root, more to herself than anything.

‘Then you might want to tone it down on the ‘inseparable, constantly looking sexed’ front.’

‘Noted,’ replied Root absentmindedly, her mind already working out a solution to stem those rumors before they exploded in her face. And Sameen’s.

Sameen would not like that at all.

 

* * *

 

Shaw shifted beside her, pulling the covers up to her chin and settling on her side. Root faced the ceiling, arms behind her head.

She turned to face Shaw as she stilled and brought and arm down, letting her fingers run softly through the ends of Shaw’s hair watching the strands fall through her grasp.

Shaw shook her head as best she could against the pillow and Root pulled her hand away, amused by the action.

‘Stop touching me,’ grumbled Shaw.

‘You didn’t mind five minutes ago.’

‘Five minutes ago I wasn’t trying to sleep.’

Root hummed in agreement.

‘Have you heard the rumors?’

Shaw groaned and Root hit her lightly.

‘Don’t be rude I’m trying to have a conversation.’

‘Have it with someone else. Somewhere else.’

Root shot her a look but Shaw was too busy not looking to notice. She could feel it attempt to coax a reaction from her and finally she sighed.

‘Fine. Yes, I have. Are you happy?’

‘What do you think?’

‘That people need a life. Now let me sleep.’

‘So you don’t care?’

‘No Root, I don’t. Now shut up.’

Root obliged and Shaw relaxed; this was her time to sleep before class and while Root had satisfied her other urges she wasn’t particularly good at letting Shaw fulfill this one.

‘How’s Quidditch?’

‘Fuck. Off.’

‘Sameen,’ scolded Root, ‘I thought we were past this rudeness.’

‘Why the fuck are you still here?’ growled Shaw.

‘You never asked me to leave.’

‘Leave.’

Root chuckled.

‘Anything for you Sweetie.’

Root left a soft kiss on the top of Shaw’s head before pushing herself from the bed.

Shaw frowned.

* * *

 

Everyone knew Root didn’t do Quidditch. This wasn’t rumor, or speculation: this was fact. So when rumors began of a figure watching every practice from the shadows of the pitch no one thought it could be Root. No one even suspected. In fact, no one really thought much of it.

Then a Third year Ravenclaw (or maybe it was a Gryffindor-no one could quite agree) swore they saw Root flutter past: a flash of brown hair and green robes. _‘Are you sure?’_ came the relentless questioning, always answered with the overenthusiastic nodding of a young student who was sure of what they saw.

More proof was needed of course than the word of a Third year, but anyone who knew anyone was swearing blind that Root was on the pitch again.

You see, there were few things so universal as to unite most of Hogwarts: Harry Potter had been one, ‘McGonogall and The Rogue Chicken Debacle’ had been another, recalled now only as legend in the annals of Hogwarts History and in the memory of a few of the older students (that had been Root too, but no one had to know that) and then there was Root. Root and Quidditch.

She hadn’t set foot near the pitch in four years and most people knew why, mentioned in hushed tones and voiced whispers: promising seeker-the best in a generation some would argue- and she hasn’t touched a broom since. And yet now, according to rumor, she was practically sleeping there. People wanted to know why.

It didn’t take long for a pattern to unveil itself: Teams Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor claimed only periodic sightings of the figure confirmed as Root. Team Hufflepuff, however, reported 100% attendance.

From a few choice sources in the Hufflepuff team and some simple probability calculations, as well as some interesting reports from Root’s Slytherin dorm mates, the student body had managed to narrow down a probable cause for Root’s unusual actions within a .2% error margin: Sameen Shaw.

When Root was suddenly declared match commentator for this season, any remaining doubts as to her motives were immediately squashed.

 

* * *

 

‘And it’s Hufflepuff’s game as Sameen Shaw intercepts the quaffle in those lovely, firm arms heading straight for the hoops.’

Shaw was going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. Break each bone one by one and then stomp on the shards. And then she was going to kill the person who gave Root the power to project her monologues, quips and observations to the entire fucking school.

Shaw ground her jaw as she scored another 10 points.

‘Excellent shot by Sameen: 10 points to Hufflepuff. A repeat performance of that and Hufflepuff wins the match, but then we all know Sameen doesn’t like repeat performances.’

‘Give me that,’ growled Shaw to a Hufflepuff beater, yanking the bat from their hand and hitting the incoming bludger in Root’s direction.

Root easily deflected the incoming projectile with a wave of her wand, smirking all the while.

‘Sweetie what have we said about being rude?’

Shaw tossed the bat carelessly aside, audibly growling as she flew to her position.

Murder. Death. Root.

* * *

 

There were few things so universal as to unite most of Hogwarts: Root and Sameen Shaw’s possible relationship was one.

Rule Number One: Don’t let Shaw hear the words ‘relationship’ and ‘Root’ in the same sentence. (Source: traumatised Fifth year Slytherin) Root seems more lenient but will deny the existence of any such a relationship. Sources (confirmed: Zoe Morgan overheard in the second floor bathroom by a Second year Slytherin) report that this denial is simply a formality.

 

* * *

 

‘Sameen has the quaffle snatched by Gryffindor’s Carter determined not to cede the match and praying for a snitch sighting. Carter passes. Gryffindor’s John Reese sends a bludger as Sameen goes in for the tackle that misses by a wide margin and really John my Sameen would never be hit with something so amateur.’

‘She did once!’ yelled John playfully from the pitch.

‘Whatever helps you sleep at night Big Lug.’

‘Ms. Groves please refrain from relaying personal conversations on the pitch wide tannoy,’ chided McGonogall from behind her.

‘Sorry Professor,’ she didn’t sound sorry at all, still very much addressing the entire pitch as the match raged on, ‘but I would hate for rumors to start regarding Sameen’s prowess.’

Shaw gripped her broom as her knuckles turned white: everything that woman said was a charged innuendo and she was going to kill her.

 

* * *

 

Rule Number Two: Direct approach yields little reward. Known associates of either woman will deny or deflect any such connection between Root and Sameen Shaw. Indirect questioning is therefore a must.

Rule Number Three: Mention or acknowledgement of Root’s commentary will similarly be met with denial, blank looks, raised eyebrows and in extreme cases: violence. (Source: inquisitive, reckless Sixth year Gryffindor) Avoid at all costs.

 

* * *

 

Shaw lightly tossed the quaffle through the center hoop, marking Gryffindor’s loss and causing a cheer to erupt from the Hufflepuffs.

‘What a particularly stunning win for Hufflepuff: the celebrations tonight will be well earned. As for me, I’ll be unavailable for the next few days as Sameen mentioned something about a special treat and I may be a little tied up.’

Shaw could have sworn the cheers grew louder in response and Shaw scowled, escaping the throng of congratulations to fly over to Root.

‘I do not need the entire school knowing about my sex life Root,’ hissed Shaw in a tone that would have terrified anyone else.

Root smirked.

‘So does that mean I _am_ getting a special treat?’

Shaw growled, pulling the microphone away from Root’s mouth.

‘Root.’

‘Yes Sweetie?’

Root couldn’t look innocent if she tried.

 

* * *

 

Rule Number Four: Nothing is to be mentioned within earshot of Sameen Shaw. Extreme caution is advised.

 

* * *

 

Root’s commentary became…commonplace. Expected. Looked forward to. There was nothing the students of Hogwarts liked more than gossip and as many knew, in more ways than one Root was nothing if not vocal.

The rumors died down- there was no need for rumors when information is freely given- and what replaced was an unspoken code. The conversations over the quidditch pitch were private: personal. The world had been privy to it but treated the two as if they had not: silent support for the hottest not-couple of Hogwarts.

Zoe Morgan provided the breakdown: Root was sleeping with Shaw. Beyond that was anyone’s guess, but the school wide consensus remained: Root had somehow tamed the violent, unpredictable, aloof Sameen Shaw and it was not their place to intervene.

 

* * *

 

Rule Number Five: Root is immune: the singular, rare exception to the Sameen Shaw Rules (see: Lionel Fusco, Original Edition, Hufflepuff)

 

* * *

 

The match was uneventful.

No, that was a lie. The Slytherin team would balk at that: the match was anything but uneventful.

Hufflepuff claimed victory. No. Sameen Shaw claimed victory after wiping out most of the opposing team. No one stood a chance.

10 points, 10 points, 10 points ran the commentary.

Yeah. That was weird too.

Sameen Shaw single handedly brutalized the Slytherin team. Root didn’t say a word.

Halfway through the match and the atmosphere was tense. The cheers fell flat, the spectators muttering amongst themselves and it had nothing to do with the quidditch being played.

McGonogall rested a hand on Root’s shoulder. John Reese looked at Zoe Morgan stood beside him and raised an eyebrow.

‘They had a talk.’

John waited.

‘Shaw said some things.’

‘She always does.’

 

* * *

 

She was fine. Honestly.

She hadn’t seen Shaw in almost two weeks; no more than fleeting glimpses and anger. Lots of anger. And yeah, it was her fault but Shaw wanted her gone and she was fine with that. She was fine.

Root sighed and Finch raised his eyes from his book to look at her.

‘Speak to her.’

They’ve had this conversation before.

‘And say what?’

‘That’s up to you.’

‘Yeah great Harry thanks.’

‘I can’t tell you what-‘

‘She made it clear she never wants to see me again.’

Root cut him off before he could continue the same, repetitive line of conversation. Harold stopped to consider his next words.

‘Were you dating?’

‘No. Doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the constant sex.’

Finch paused. He had known Root for a very long time, since before she was Root and he knew when Root wasn’t quite admitting everything.

‘It was more to you…wasn’t it? It meant more to you.’

Root didn’t respond.

‘I pushed her.’

Finch looked at her in question.

‘I pushed her too far and I blew it. I thought it was fine. I was fine.’

‘Apologise.’

‘I don’t want it to be over so quickly. What we had. Friends with benefits.’

‘Even when it wasn’t enough for you?’

‘It was always enough.’

‘You don’t want more?’ asked Finch, a little confused.

‘Not without her.’

Finch sighed and gave her a sympathetic look.

Yeah, she thought, I’m pathetic.

 

* * *

 

‘Sameen,’ called Root with a lot more assurance than she felt.

Shaw didn’t stop.

‘Sameen stop being a child!”

Shaw spun round to face her.

‘What.’

‘We need to talk.’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Shaw’s scowl seemed to soften a little.

‘For going too far.’

Shaw shifted.

‘I don’t want more. I’m happy with what we had, and-‘

‘Everyone knows.’

Root tilted her head in question.

‘I don’t like it when people know.’

‘Know what? That I’m fucking you? You’re fucking me?’

‘That’s not what they say.’

‘You said you didn’t care what they say.’

‘I do if it was your idea.’

‘It wasn’t.’

The two held gazes.

‘I’m not trying to push you, or start rumors. I was trying to end them because I thought…I thought you’d run. And you did. So I decided to stop them. And have a little fun in the process.’

Shaw didn’t reply, considering the sincerity of Root’s words and ignoring how she felt about them.

‘You’re a pain in the ass.’

Root grinned.

‘I know you like it.’

‘So does everyone else.’

‘Does that bother you?’

‘What, that everyone from McGonogall to Fluffy knows I like it rough? No. Not really.’

‘I think they knew anyway. You’re not exactly quiet.’

Shaw scoffed, watching Root advance on her.

‘Says you.’

* * *

 

Rule Number Six: They aren’t dating.

 

* * *

 

The match had yet to begin and the tension was palpable; no one was even trying to feign in interest in the teams on the pitch, gazes focused on one Sameen Shaw. If she could feel it, she didn’t let it bother her.

She had agreed to this. Okay that was a strong word: more like once Shaw had calmed down and Root was back in her bed there was no stopping her on her quest to inform the entire student body of her sex life.

The stadium seemed to hold its breath as the quaffle was thrown up, beginning the game, and Shaw deftly caught it.

The Ravenclaw opposition braced for their seemingly inevitable upcoming trip to the Infirmary.

‘Caught. By Sameen Shaw, and she’s off like a bullet. A bullet with a really nice ass: what a great ass she has under that kit has anyone else noticed?’

Root wasn’t expecting the cheers. Shaw had just scored so really it was probably due to that but Root still couldn’t help her beaming smile that crawled onto her face.

Shaw flew past her at high speed, raising her middle finger just for Root and Root’s laughter echoed across the pitch, melding with the loud support emanating from the spectator stands.

Shaw let her eyes wander over the cheering audience and couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow.

 

* * *

 

Rule Number Seven: Root was smitten. Shaw could never know.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may be wondering what 'McGonogall and the Rogue Chicken Debacle' is referring to. Based on a real life prank I may or may not have had a part in, instructions are as follows:
> 
> Release three chickens labelled 1,2 and 4.  
> Sit back and enjoy.


End file.
